


Matter of Needs

by thetammyjo



Series: Matter of Series [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: BDSM, Developing Relationship, F/M, Femdom, Leather Kink, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Romance, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 15:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetammyjo/pseuds/thetammyjo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More than half a year since the previous story, "Matter of Honor," sees John and Amanda in an established M/s relationship but something is missing.  Can they be honest about what they need from each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matter of Needs

Amanda smiled and bowed politely as her escort did the same before leaving her at the lobby of the hotel she was staying at in this small nation of Andorra. At least it wasn’t the Middle East again so both the weather and the customs were more comfortable for her. The growing economies of the developing world had been eager for her art but her agent, Cynthia, was now finding her more work in established markets.

Could one call Andorra an established art market? It was a very interesting city combining medieval, Renaissance, and ultra modern into its tiny area. The hotel she was currently staying at was modern luxury but she’d spent the passed few days touring everything with her guide. This was after three weeks touring other parts of Europe, talking with cultural ministers and the like, and then two more weeks of this.

Amanda rubbed her temples as she went to her room and went inside. She’d have a decent hour to recharge before the send off dinner this evening. Her laptop was blinking from its nook so she flipped the screen up. A couple of messages from Cynthia that she didn’t want to bother with right now because it might just confirm she had to do this for even longer. There was a message from the Saudis with the subject “video responses positive” in the subject line that she decided to look at later to unwind at the end of the evening.

She smiled and sat down at the message from John. Clicking it and reading his simple check in made some of the tension go out of her back but nothing like her masseur could do back home.

Master, this one hopes your time in Andorra is going well.

This one has kept up on the mail and deliveries, sorting them per your orders, though a package from your mother marked perishable required opening. The cookies have been frozen until your return.

This one looks forward to your corrections should he have made any errors in your absence.

Your slave, john

This annoying habit he had of typing and speaking objectively only reared up if she had been away for more than a few days. It wasn’t what she really needed right now. Amanda’s fingers hovered over the keyboard and then she flipped on the chat menu to see if he was online even though it would be the morning still there, around Noon actually. He had orders to keep his webcam on in his room and there he was doing pull-ups on the bar she’d agreed to let him install in his room.

After a moment he turned toward his screen and then let himself down to walk over and kneel in front of it. “Master,” he greeted her with a bow of his head then a smile directly at her. He knew by now that she didn’t like seeing his eyes focused elsewhere other than her own even if his years with Roy had trained him otherwise.

“My mother sent me cookies, huh?” she began with a light chuckle.

He nodded after the pause it took for their voice and video to transfer. “Three types — cocoa oatmeal chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, and sugar roll outs,” he said with a shrug. “Her note said they could be frozen in the upper unit for up to three months, Master.”

“Damn I better not be running around for another three months,” Amanda tossed out with a frown. “I’ll go crazy without my studio,” she added but didn’t say what was on the tip of her tongue.

John nodded and gave her a warm smile. “This one misses you, Master,” he said then blushed and looked down. “I… this one…” he stuttered so she spoke up.

“I miss you, too, John,” and that him to lift his face again. They stared at each other until his eyes lowered again. 

“I haven’t gotten any play requests from you since I’ve been out, are you needing anything?” she pressed gently.

For a while she had lent him out to every rough top she’d known and then some of their friends but after the Christmas visit to Roy’s grave the slave she’d inherited changed, for a few days he was quiet has he had been but he seemed more relaxed. After a few days he started talking more though he behaved very much like he had when he first arrived with Roy’s protocols. She’d asked about playing at the gay dungeon or with former tops a few times but he never took her up on the offer. With this extended trip she had thought, had hoped, but no he shook his head again while looking directly at her.

“Just come home, Master. New grill book came last week and I’m dying to try it,” he fell back into using the first person and that made her smile wider.

“I will let you know when I do and I’m not letting Cynthia talk me into more than the next two weeks. I’ll bring some decent German beer back with me, too.”

John nodded at her with a grin then bowed his head after she wished him a good day until she turned off the connection and sat back in her chair.

 

“You need to get laid,” Cynthia told her flat out four evenings later as they road to the meet and greet at the Cologne Trade Fair her first stop in Germany where she was supposed to charm representatives from several cities in central Europe. 

Amanda paused to turn her head dramatically toward her agent. “Really? Here in a taxi you make an announcement like this? How is that supposed to get me to want to mingle tonight?”

“It might change the way you mingle,” Cynthia said reaching out to do something to her hair or face that Amanda simply turned away from with a frown. First it was this damned dress and now she was talking about sex. As if a taxi were an appropriate place to have any such conversation. “Oh, please, I’m not just your agent, I’m your friend. I’m looking out for your best interests, Mandy.”

That earned another glare from the artist who slouched in her seat in retaliation. “New topic or I might just get a new agent, Cindy.”

There was silence for a few moments and then the agent reached over to slide the open glass between them and the driver shut earning a curious look but no comment from him or her client. She lowered her voice and leaned in closer to her former college roommate, friend, and best client. “The last sketches you sent were lacking something.”

Amanda turned back to her with a frown. “Studio time,” she stated.

“No, no, something else has been happening for a while now, for about three years now, you know?”

Amanda closed her eyes and sat up straighter. “That’s over, you know that.”

“And well it should be. Asshole was never worth your time but the sex… you can’t say it didn’t give your work a bit more passion, can you?” A silent stare was the only reply. “I had hoped with the new slave you might, you know, get back into the saddle. You are one of the few artists I know that builds passion in art through real life orgasms and not out of unrequited desire.”

Shaking her head, Amanda turned to look out the window. “He’s gay, he’s lost that interest even. It’s not an option.”

“You sure? You did tell me that he kissed you,” the agent started to point out as the taxi stopped in front of the building they needed and the music from inside reached them.

“That was a one time deal and we have this event to focus on now so I’d like you to stay focused on it, like an agent should,” Amanda added before stepping out as an attendant from the event opened the taxi door.

The entire evening Amanda tried her best to project a friendly but otherworldly attitude when meeting the ministers, directors, and artists present. She replied upon Cynthia to smooth out her artistic annoyance when people got too long winded or the topics turned to politics or economics that really didn’t concern her unless it reflected on what their public art coffers had to offer. She left exchanging cards where appropriate entirely in her agent’s hands. Clients tended to be distractions that she didn’t need once she was on commission.

Inside she was thinking about her friend’s comments in the taxi and using the images of John in various states of dress or undress, working or relaxing, exercising or studying a book, to help her put a bit of flirt into her body language. He was her slave after all she could use him as she wished in her mind without trashing his sexuality.

 

John straightened up when the sound of the entry code came through the intercom system into the condo. A quick glance at the calendar confirmed it was two days before Amanda was coming home plus he had orders to meet her at the airport to help with the luggage. As he walked toward the door into the main space he could see the shadow of a person coming in the front door then walking down the entryway with the tell tale click of heels. Opening the door he was both surprised yet not to see Amanda’s agent about to knock on the inner door.

“Ms. Bradcliff,” John said with a tiny nod of his head as he opened the door and effectively blocked the entry at the same time. He kept his right hand on the door, holding it firmly. The woman might have the code to the outer door but not this one and he had no word that she’d be here. Unless she had a good reason he’d be damned if he let her in. She might have been old friends with master but the leather slave felt there was something off about this woman from the moment he’d been introduced. She knew just enough about the Scene to be stupid and dangerous, someone Roy would have never allowed free reign in his house.

But this was Amanda’s house and that moment of reflection gave the woman just enough time to find a way under and around his arm holding the door. “You know I think it might rain out there,” the agent said with a too sweet smile as she walked right into the living room and sat on the couch.

John sighed and let his shoulder fall for a second before composing himself and turning around with a smile. “Is that so, Ms. Bradcliff? Why not have some hot tea then?” he offered as he backed toward the kitchen.

“That would be love… and there he goes,” he heard her say before he was safely just far enough away that she’d have to shout to be heard.

He paused and looked at the small computer in the kitchen. They had one in every room now except the bathrooms and the studio, a payment from a client instead of cash. As first John had been annoyed by the things but over the weeks she’d been away he found it comforting to know she could contact him at any time, watch him at her whim, and he’d had some harmless fun with it over the weeks as well. No master online currently so he fell back to general etiquette though the agent certainly hadn’t been polite. No, he had to remember that everything he did would reflect back on his master and this was an important person for Amanda’s career.

The agent was still sitting there when he returned with a tray, a pot of freshly heated water, and a small selection of teas. Kneeling down he placed the tray on the coffee table and offered her the little basket of teas. “Please choose what you like, Ms. Bradcliff.”

“Not having any with me,” she asked as her eyes went from the sole cup on the tray to his face then to the basket.

“No Ma’am. Would you care for milk, lemon, or sugar?” he replied not even giving her a full answer.

“And you won’t sit next to me or at least on a chair?”

“That would improper, Ma’am.” Again he replied simply and without the full information he was sure she was hunting for. He waited until she had a sip of her tea and nodded before easing back into a more relaxing kneel by the table. She probably no idea how rude he was being by looking at her so directly since she smiled back and then patted her briefcase he just now noticed.

“I brought by some contracts for Amanda to look at once she’d had a chance to get over the trip a bit. Nothing that time sensitive but since I was in the area any way I thought I’d drop it by.”

John arched one eyebrow but didn’t say anything out loud. The agent lived in the Upper East Side while Amanda’s condo was in Brooklyn, a very nice luxury condo complex but still it was in Brooklyn, it was doubtful she was just in the area. John took the offered folders and put them on the chair behind him to take to Amanda’s home office later.

A few awkward moments paused by with only tea sipping until the agent spoke again. “There was something else I wanted to discuss with you, John.”

“Ma’am?” he replied. Finally the real reason for her visit might come out because while he could kneel like this for a few hours around his master or a top he was finding it particularly challenging right now.

“Did you know that Amanda does her best work when she’s sexually satisfied?”

John could feel his jaw drop leaving his mouth open in shock. Of everything he was imaging the woman might say this was not what he expected. To tell him to back off because she had a client who wanted to date Amanda or even that she wanted his help to set her up, they’d all ready been through those “plans to help our artist” before and each time he’d turned her down.

John jerked back and had to catch himself on one hand when the agent touched his jaw. “Sorry, you were looked like a fish, you know,” she teased him opening her mouth to demonstrate for a second. John frowned and inched just out of her reach.

The agent frowned herself then giggled, a false laugh if he’d ever heard one. “Oh, you don’t know her as well as I do, I guess you didn’t realize that her muse is slipping because she’s apparently not getting laid, neither well or often enough.” 

She paused and her tone became lower as she looked dead at him. “I find that quite difficult to believe given that I was led to understand that you had some sort of code of honor you lived by as a slave.”

John’s eyes widened just a bit as his stomach started to tighten.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I know I’m not, isn’t it part of your job here to see to all of Amanda’s needs? Isn’t that what you did for your late master?”

John bit down hard on his teeth to keep from replying. He’d heard that what straight women might lack in physical sadism they more than made up for with their tongues but Amanda was more a woman of action than of words. Of course she might not be straight, he didn’t know what she was, other than she’d responded to that kiss at the grave sight and didn’t seem disgusted by his body when he was on full display around the condo or at the clubs they used to go to.

“Thinking about it now, aren’t you?” the agent’s voice got him look at her. “I mean, it was my understanding that this wasn’t a play thing, this was the real deal, so why aren’t you satisfying my artist so she can get back into her groove?”

John took a deep breath and let it out before speaking softly but slowly, demonstrating control over the angry building inside of him rather than disgrace himself by reacting as this little bitch clearly wanted. “Ma’am, it would not be proper for me to discuss Master’s sex life with you.”

The agent leaned forward and hissed at him, “I don’t want you to discuss it. I want you to do something about it because this celibacy of hers is only making it harder for her to get work done on time and to the highest standards she is capable of. She shouldn’t have had to go on this damned trip, her works should have sold themselves, but no even the idiots who only want art for tourists can sense a lack of passion. All of this,” she sat back with a wave of her hands, “all of this goes if her muse falls asleep.”

John tightened his jaw and stood up to look down at her. “Ma’am, I’m afraid I must insist that you leave this condo right now. You are being disrespectful to Master and I cannot allow that.”

“There’s the code showing itself,” the agent cooed as she stood up and smoothed her skirt down then picked up her bag. 

She walked to the door and down the entryway then turned to face him again. “If you are waiting for her to order you, she’s not going to do that because she respects you being gay. I wonder which is more important to you? Gay or slave?” and with that she walked to the elevator and didn’t look back at him.

John resisted the urge to slam both doors as he went back inside the condo. He picked up the tray and took it all back to the kitchen where he watched the water swirl down the drain as he thought. How could he have let that bitch get to him? It was ridiculous that Amanda wouldn’t tell him what she wanted from him, she had no problem telling him to change how he did anything or to decide to add to his list of chores. She had no problem setting him up on dates or watching over him during a scene with a stranger.

John looked back toward the living room. In fact she insisted on being there for all his ‘dates’ since his contract had been signed over to her. She rarely went out by herself, tended to watch gay porn when she did watch porn, and always checked him thoroughly after he showered or played. Not that he had played in some time now. He just didn’t feel up to it since saying goodbye in the cemetery.

His head was starting to hurt from the odd thoughts in his head of kissing her, watching her watching him as he was beaten or fucked, looking at her when they watched TV or a film, wondering sometimes if she could do the job as good as the top on the screen. “Jesus!” John said out loud before tapping on the computer screen to place a call through the phone service that came on it.

After a few rings the face of his former master’s best friend popped up on video chat that was the current default setting. “You aren’t Amanda, boy,” the older leather man stated as he folded his arms over his chest.

Desmond might be only half as old as sin, as he described himself when he was flirting, but John glanced down when he realized he wasn’t even a tiny bit hard like he usually was around any leather top man.

“You got a problem down there, boy?”

John swallowed his immediate response and settled on a question instead. “Sir, would it be possible to talk to you about something important?”

Desmond frowned then relaxed his arms and face after a second. “Is something wrong with Amanda, has there been an accident, did she kick you out?”

“No, no Sir, I’m here, she’s in Europe still, I just,” John licked his lips and looked down at the countertop. “Master Roy told me that you were married before, that you’ve had girlfriends, that you’re, you know, that way,” he said awkwardly.

“Oh, lord, even in the 21st fucking century,” Desmond griped before hardening his voice. “Look at me, boy, and ask me a sensible question!”

John’s head snapped up at the order and he blurted out, “Sir, could you teach me how to please a woman sexually?”

Now it was the older leatherman’s turn to let his mouth fall open in shock.

 

John opened the door from the hallway within moments of the doorbell ringing. He hadn’t been waiting for Desmond really, only since the lobby called up to ask if it was OK to let the gentleman up. Was waiting the same as doing the same set of finished chores over and over just to make sure the house was presentable? John pushed that thought aside as he bowed his head and let the top in.

“May I take your coat, Sir?” John asked as soon as they were in the condo proper and the second entry door was closed.

The older man cocked his head to one side and just sighed as he shrugged off his leather jacket and handed it over. He went inside and looked around casually letting out a low whistle as he did so. “Damn, I thought artists starved to do their work.”

“Not all of them, Sir, though I’m sure there were early days when Master Amanda didn’t live here,” John replied as he stepped back and motioned to the couch.

“You sure? I rode my hog over here and I don’t dirty the finer things I’m seeing,” Desmond said with a flashing smile but he took a seat any way. He wasn’t hard up by any means, a decent retirement plan from the military and income from his mechanic show that he still checked in regularly made his life fairly laid back, lots of time for boys and girls who wanted a piece of him but this condo was something else all together.

John didn’t even respond to the question and merely smiled back. “Would Sir like a drink? Coffee, tea, sometime stronger?”

The older man sat back and studied him for a moment. “If we are gonna talk about sexing a girl, we having a shot of something strong.”

“Yes, Sir. If you will excuse me?” John said but again didn’t want merely backed up to the bar over in the corner where he poured two fingers of whiskey that Amanda had. She didn’t drink casually but she also told him it was free to use when guests were over just as long as he didn’t get tipsy. With that in mind, he got out a second glass and poured himself half that amount.

John knelt down and offered the other leatherman his two-finger shot then sat his on the table.

Desmond took a small sip then grinned. “The fine stuff. Well then I’ll savor it a bit more but you got to drink, too,” he decided. That got the boy to take a sip and keep the glass in his hand. 

Several minutes of silence followed until the drinks were gone and then another minute of empty air until the older leatherman leaned forward. “You having a hard time keeping it up with her?”

“What?” John replied, his eyes blinking several times. “No, no, she hasn’t, we haven’t…”

“But you want to?”

“No, yes, I don’t know,” John fumbled then took a deep breath. “I haven’t been interested in scening or dicks since the cemetery.”

Desmond sat back with a shrug. “We aren’t machines, we don’t always want to fuck. You were a pig before you went given what I’ve heard around the clubs, probably grieving in your own way, then, give it time.”

John shook his head and waited for a natural pause before speaking up. “Her agent came by, said that she needs sex to create, and that I should be doing that for her.”

Desmond frowned as he trained to sort though the pronouns then snorted. “This agent an artist agent or a pimp?”

“Artist agent.”

“Then why the hell is this any of her business?”

John paused and then stood up and walked off leaving the other leatherman annoyed but curious since he knew the boy had been trained better. The younger man returned and knelt closer, laying a photo album on the table and flipping it open. “I don’t have permission to take you into her studio, Master just let me in a few months ago, but this is her sales portfolio you could call it.”

Desmond picked it up and looked through it slowly. At first the pieces were good then they got great and then amazing and then suddenly he realized something was lacking in the last few except for one. He looked at the date, beginning of January this year, and then the next piece was ever less inspiring than the previous ones. “I’m not an artist but I think I see it,” the top said softly. “Some of these, even if the topic isn’t a turn on personally, they just… have energy?”

John nodded. “I called you first because I was a bit freaked but then I looked at this and realized what her agent was talking about. This one,” he flipped back to the one from the beginning of the year, “was after the cemetery, after I kissed her,” he admitted and flinched back just enough for a trained top to notice.

“You kissed her, as in initiated it?”

John hung his head and muttered an apology but Desmond put a gentle hand on his shoulder causing him to look up.

“I know that Roy had some firm protocols but I also know he was never one to say a boy can’t try to get the master all in the mood. I’m betting you weren’t trying to do that though.”

“No, sir, I just,” John swallowed and rolled his eyes to look up at the ceiling, “it had been so long since I just felt, I don’t know, affection?”

Patting his shoulder, Desmond agreed adding, “Even the toughest leather dyke probably needs some affection, ain’t nothing to be ashamed of. And given this reaction,” he motioned to the image on the page, “I’d say it stirred something in her. But you said you haven’t sexed her yet?”

“No, sir. I catch her looking at me, and before when she let others play with me, and she has offered, I just, I don’t feel like it?”

The older leatherman blew a breath out of his lungs to try and clear his mind. “Amanda, Amanda, Amanda, you and that fucking moral code of yours,” he muttered as he took his hand off of the boy’s shoulder and stood up. “Look women tend to be less aggressive before they are in a relationship so you may need to be more aggressive yourself.”

“We’re in a relationship, she owns me,” John began only to stop when the other man held up a hand to silence him.

“Different types of relationship, any how that isn’t the biggest problem here. Amanda has always been a huge gay and lesbian rights ally and sometimes those folks tend to over do it on their empathy,” Desmond said. “I’ve played across the board. Dated het in high school, fooled around with guys in college but married a woman, that lasted all of five years but we had a kid, then I go to the leather community for a good two decades before I figure out I still like pussy from time to time. We’re so caught up in the politics that we forget the fact that a lot times a bottom just wants a top to take without asking.”

John felt an objection arise but then realized that the thought of Amanda, hell almost any top, just reaching out and grabbing him was fucking hot even if he was a stranger. “Maybe,” he said slowly but earned a huff from Desmond so amended, “yeah the idea is hot, sure, but not on the street, in a club, where we’ve been checking each other out, that is hot. I’m her slave, she can just do what she wants.”

“She doesn’t get that, at least not with sex since she looks at you and sees gay boy.”

The two men paused and just considered the conversation so far before John broke the silence. “So how do I flirt with a woman, let her know that this,” he waved one hand down the length of his torso, “is available?”

“Stop thinking of her as a woman and flirt like you would with a top, with your master, with Roy even. She was trained in his family after all, she probably has several similar turn-ons.”

“But she is a woman and I’ve never been with a woman.”

Desmond just shook his head. “Damn things are so much more out than when I was your age. Finding any gay man my age who hadn’t at least dated a woman… I can’t imagine it.”

“Yeah well I just didn’t date until I left home and then it was just guys.”

Desmond nodded then reached out and gripped the younger man by the shoulder again. “I’ll give you a few pointers but women they aren’t the same and they can fucking change in a second so the biggest asset you bring to the party is paying attention and asking questions.”

“Asking questions?” John’s face grew pale as the words flew from his mouth. “You have to ask women questions when you have sex with them?”

“Have to? No. Should? Hells yeah. Now let’s talk about noise and touch and how chicks dig it.”

 

Amanda sighed as she sank down into the garden bathtub that was the second reason she bought this condo. John has been waiting for her, wearing a chauffeur’s hat of all things as well as a suit when he collected her at the airport. They used a taxi, of course, but he clearly had been trying to impress by dressing up for her, bowing to her, taking her bags, and helping her in and out of the taxi. The bow and the opening door thing was everyday stuff but the other… it felt pampered. Then when they got back he excused himself to run her a bath, again not terribly unusual but generally she ordered him to do so even though it was part of their routine after she had any meeting with potential clients, clients, or Cynthia.

She turned her head as a knock came on the door and then it opened just a crack. “Master? I have some wine for you, thought it might help you unwind. May I bring it in?”

Amanda swallowed and sank down just a bit in the bubbles around her. “Um, that sounds great, sure,” she called out with forced bravado she wasn’t currently feeling.

At first he was a slightly blurry form since she didn’t have her glasses on but when he got closer she could see he was still in the slacks and button up shirt though it was rolled up to the sleeves and the tie was tucked between the gaps to hold it firm as he carried the serving tray and then paused to look around. “Ah, this will do,” he commented before grabbing the bench from the built in vanity she never used and pulling it over to set the tray down by her side within easy arm’s reach. A glass of red was there along with a bell she’d never seen before.

“I don’t really need a bell in the bath.”

“I found it in a little shop, thought it might be a good way for you to call me since I know you dislike raising your voice and may not always want to come and get me,” he said with a smile as he gazed at her face with sincerity, his eyes not even glance downward until he took one step closer. “Is there anything else, anything at all,” his voice was lower when he said that and his smile turned a bit leerish, “that I can do for you right now, Master?”

“No, not right now, but I have the bell so…” Amanda forced a stupid grin onto her face and shooed him away with one wet hand. 

John bowed and backed out of the door, closing it behind him.

“What the hell was that?” Amanda whispered to herself as she sat up and took the glass. After a sip she glanced down and found her nipples a bit pert but shrugged it off. “I have needed to relax for so many weeks that I’m just going to go along with it. Probably some book he’s read on proper slave etiquette or something since I’ve been gone.”

Then as she took another sip she realized that she had almost splashed him then refrained because he might just show up the next time without a shirt. Not that she hadn’t seen him naked, she had at least a few dozen times when he scened with other leathermen, or near naked because he didn’t have a problem with showing off his body. She took another sip and stared at the bubbles in the water for a few seconds. “Doesn’t matter,” she said firmly. “Normal reaction doesn’t mean I have to act. Nope, no acting on my part,” she stated as she down the last of the wine.

Setting the glass down made her hand brush against the bell. She spent the rest of her once relaxing soak just staring at the damned thing.

 

Later that evening Amanda was sitting on the couch in her comfy pajamas with another glass of wine, this one white, left over from the chicken dinner he had made. Some music in the background from the local ambience station enhanced the pleasure created by the view over the water toward Manhattan as the sun set. The sky was alight with golds and reds with sparks from the buildings windows and streets lamps coming online.

She slowly turned her gaze toward her slave still in that outfit he’d stripped down to upon getting home minus jacket, shoes, socks, and hat. The hat could have stayed, it looked, well, it looked good on him not that he was bad looking whatever he wore whether it was tighty whities or low riding jeans and t-shirt or work-out shorts and muscle shirt. Now he was kneeling as normal but sitting right next to her on the couch, along her sit where she could easily reach out and touch him. Something was up because normally he’d be sitting on the floor at the end of the coffee table where they could talk but not touch.

Amanda turned her gaze back to the view and took another sip. They sat in silence until she cleared her throat and he tilted his head in her direction and looked up at her from beneath his brown hair that was getting longer than she’d ever seen it before. His soft brown eyes looking at her through his bangs distracted her from what she had planned on saying. “Your hair is getting long, well, longer,” she blurted out.

“I just haven’t felt the need to get it buzzed again. Do you want me to get it cut, Master?”

“No,” she replied immediately then felt her face blush a bit, “if you like it a bit longer, it looks fine, fine,” she said taking another sip and turning back to the view.

“Do you, Master?” he asked after a moment of quiet.

Amanda looked at him and found him an inch or so closer to her, leaning in toward her, his head bowed slightly. “Do what?”

“Like it longer?” he explained and tossed his head just a bit to send the strands moving in a wave.

Amanda was still for a second until pain in her free hand made realize she was clenching it tightly. “I’m done with this,” she said before gulping the last sips from the wine then thrusting it under his head.

Without a word he took it, his fingers brushing against hers then stood up and took it out of the room toward the kitchen. Amanda moved her fingers that had brushed against his and almost felt strands of silky hair slipping through them until she wound them into her own hair and pulled to calm her sudden improper thoughts down.

 

“This is taking so long,” John whined softly into the live feed he had on in the kitchen with Desmond.

The older man smirked and shrugged. “She’s only been home a few hours, right?”

John pursed his lips and glanced up then back at the computer screen. “By now any top would have me on the floor with my ass in the air or his dick down my throat.”

“Ha! Maybe but most guys would also be jet lagged I assure you. Don’t go rushing things, stick to the plan, be romantic, be available, be unavoidable, and get the fuck back out there.”

“That’s what I should do,” John said as he glanced up again then back at the frowning leatherman, “write fuck me on my chest and go out there.”

“No!” Desmond hissed.

Both men froze as they heard a creak from the other room. “She’s coming,” John whispered and started to turn off the connection as Desmond managed a “plan, the plan” before disappearing.

Amanda stepped in and looked at John then at the countertop and the computer. “I thought I heard something.”

“I was turning off the connection, I forgot to do that from prepping dinner. You know you have the bell, Master, you shouldn’t worry about coming to get me,” he tried to turn the conversation away from the fact they both knew he’d been on the computer when he was supposed to be spending time relaxing with her as he did every evening for the past several months.

Amanda frowned and held up the bell ringing it. “I did but you didn’t hear me,” she lied pushing up her glasses up higher on her nose as she did so.

John’s eyes widened and he looked down. “Forgive me, Master, I should have heard it and come to you.” He placed his hands behind his back and bowed his head further down. “I await your correction,” he simply said, slipping back into years at Roy’s rent controlled apartment.

Amanda frowned and put the bell down so it made a loud clank. “Have you been cruising online?”

John looked up at her with an expression that might have been horror or shock and just opened his mouth silently.

“Really? I do know you were online with someone, I’m not stupid, am I?”

She had her arms folded awkwardly over her chest and stomach, the difference between them not particularly obvious in the current pajamas she was wearing. Her eyes were fixed on him and the gold-rimmed glasses offered little distance from the penetrative gaze that was quickly becoming a glare. “Not cruising, no, Master, just talking with Desmond,” John’s words rushed out.

She arched her eyebrows and tilted her head just slightly to the side as her eyes continued to search him. “Are you interested in playing with him?”

Now John felt one of his own eyebrows shoot up at the suggestion and his hands relaxed and fell to his side as he chuckled for a few seconds. Waving one hand at the corner while the other clamped over his mouth he regained control and shook his head. “No, Master. We’ve played before but he’d not really my type.”

“Not your type? He’s like Roy,” Amanda said as she walked over and got up on a stool at the island. She frowned as her slave started to chuckle but quickly quieted himself and looked down, his hands starting to go behind his back again. “How is he not like Roy? A year or two older but is that that big of a deal.”

“It isn’t his age or his race,” he replied looking up at her again. “He’s just not… serious… interested in long-term.”

“And you are?”

“I’m here, aren’t’ I? You gave me a choice, I chose to be your slave, no time limit, no safewords, and no walking out whenever I feel like it.”

“That’s an honor thing,” Amanda began and was surprised when he interrupted.

“Only partly. I was with Roy, I’m with you, cause this is what I need. Full-time, not a game, this isn’t play for me. This is my life…” John paused and brought his hands forward and onto the island’s top as he thought. “Yeah,” he smiled at her, looking into her eyes, “you give me what I need by being my Master.”

Amanda nodded automatically then chuckled, “Minus the hot the sex, sure.”

John swallowed just once then moved off plan to go with the flow. “We could have hot sex.”

They both just looked at each other for a couple of heartbeats until they spoke at the same time.

“If you wanted to use me that way.”

“If I had a dick… use you?”

They blinked at each other and John lean over the counter, “I am your slave. You use me for everything else, you even have me cleaning up your studio now and then, so why not sex?”

“Ah, because you’re gay,” Amanda pointed out but only got a shrug. “No dick on me, not a guy, no matter how flat-chested I am,” she added softly recalling a few of the comments she’d overheard when different government agents thought she couldn’t know their languages at all.

John stood back up. “Really? I’m that shallow? Master, that hurts in a no-consensual way.”

“Well, you are, right?”

“Gay, yes, in terms of basic sexual orientation,” John agreed. “If I were just gay or even primarily gay, I would not have gone leather and definitely not the slave route. This whole thing is pretty much the ugly stepbrother you don’t talk about at gay pride day regardless of the leathermen waving their flags.”

Amanda frowned and pulled her hands down to rest on her lap. “What are you saying, John? I need you to be clear cause I’m confused where any of this is coming from.”

John bit his lip and thought for a second. If he told her about her agent that might just get her hackles up and he’d seen her enough time to know that was a no go for any type of conversation. Now that he thought about it, a lot of those times revolved around said agent, her mother, or her ex he once had the pleasure of forcibly escorting out the building with the doorman and concierge as back up. Once she asked he realized the thoughts he’d been having about his sexual orientation the past two days made sense so he pushed aside the who put the idea into his head and zeroed in on the goal.

“Since Christmas I haven’t been in the mood to play with others even with you there.” She nodded and put her hands back on the counter so he continued, “I’ve been really focused on making this place work best for you and helping you with your art as you’ll let me by trying to make the mundane stuff less a concern.”

“That’s been a big help, really, it has, I couldn’t have done this trip without knowing you were here watching over everything.”

“Thank you but I wasn’t looking for praise. You know that, right?” He adjusted his stance and moved just a few inches closer to her. “Don’t get me wrong, this boy does love to be told he did a good job but I’m not doing it just for that reason.”

“Then why?”

“This,” he reached up and tugged lightly on his chain collar, “means the world to me, it grounds me, gives me a sense that I’m doing something right and if I’m not I’ll be corrected not just kicked out. I never told you much about me, don’t want to bother you, but it means beyond words that you keep me around.”

“I made a promise…”

“Yeah, yeah, your word, my word, to Roy, but I feel like I’m here for more than that. I want you to feel like you need me for more than that.”

“Need you more?”

John froze up and felt his face start to burn. This is what he got for going off the plan so he tried to pull back. “You know, that you can rely on me for anything, any time.”

Amanda narrowed her eyes then nodded and slid off the stool. “Great. I need you to be quiet then cause I feel a post-flight headache coming on.”

“Yes, Master, yes, I’ll clean up and then go to bed as well. Thank you for listening to this one blabber on,” he offered in increasingly softer words as his hands worked their way behind his back. He waited until he heard her shut her bedroom door before hitting his head once against the countertop. “Idiot.”

 

For a month he was wearing the button down shirts with his best jeans around the house. When they went out he’d add that cap and a little bow of his head when he opened the doors. He was always a few inches closer, leaned toward her a bit more, and his fingers were brushing against hers as he handed her things whether they stayed in or were out and about. It was off and yet not by that much. The biggest changes had to be the wardrobe and the nearness but he’d always been polite, always been attentive; Roy wouldn’t have accepted him any other way. He also dropped all the third person speech and was using more statements about his happiness and gratefulness.

It was driving Amanda slightly batty but she didn’t have the heart to pull back or tell him to fuck off or even to look away. As she stepped back and considered the sketch for the monument for the entryway of the MUDAM in Luxemburg she smiled glad that this was not as difficult as she was afraid it would be. In two more months she had to start the ZKM piece for the good folks in Karlsruhe and she had just the inklings of ideas for that.

She took a few photos then sent them off to Cynthia hoping for good feedback and then went to grab some lunch.  
The kitchen was empty but a glance at the clock confirmed it was near to the time John would normally come and knock on her door to ask if she had a preference. She glanced at the computer and noticed a familiar face on one of the tiny windows. The volume was low but she could tell he was speaking so she stepped close but off to one side so he couldn’t see her.

“How long does it take a boy to get a package? I thought you said you had a report for me,” the old man grumbled.

Amanda paused then clicked “off” the camera so he couldn’t see her when she stepped in front of the keyboard. “Master near,” was all she typed.

The little image of Desmond frowned then nodded and his camera went blank as well but soon some words popped up on the screen. “You may need to push more to get her interested. Stop being a pansy and just do it. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Amanda turned her head as the sound of the inner door opening met her ears. Leaving the computer as it was she went back toward her studio to wait inside, twisting her hands with a deep frown.

“Interested in what?” she wondered in a whisper.

In just a few minutes he knocked on the door and then opened it at her command. “Master did you want some lunch now?”

Amanda found her eyes transfixed on him until he looked down then back over his shoulder then back at her. “I’m sorry I disrupted you, Master.”

“No, no, you didn’t, I’ve finished the sketch,” she rushed to tell him then looked at the easel with a wave of her hand. “Come tell me what you think.”

His dark eyes widened then he smiled and stepped into her space and paused a foot from her. “Oh, it’s very modern, a person… persons maybe?”

“The museum is very modern, the art inside, I mean, the building been around a while now. New funding allowed them to commission this. Can you tell what emotion I’m trying to convey?”  
John tilted his head to one side then the other. “I’m sure once it is sculpted I’ll get it, Master. Or maybe not, I’m not an artist, you are…”

“That’s the point, it shouldn’t take an artist to get what I’m trying to convey… unless I suck,” she ended on a sigh.

She watched him move closer then further back then bite his lower lip. “I looked more at your portfolio while you were traveling, did I tell you that, Master?”

Amanda blinked a few times, a bit thrown by the change in subject. “No, you didn’t tell me. Did you like my older stuff?”

She looked up at him as he faced her and nodded once. “I think your work has changed over the years, but I liked it best until about three years ago.”

Blinking a few more times, Amanda swallowed uncomfortably. “Really? That’s when I broke up with my ex, the one you had to escort out a few months back.”

John just shrugged and turned back to the drawing, pulling his hands behind his back. “Your work before that just seems like alive to me but what do I know?” He smiled then and bowed at her with one arm sweeping out toward the open door. “I know how to make a lunch you’ll like, Master, so please let me do so.”

Amanda sat on the stool in the kitchen and watched him pull together a salad heavy on the pecans and strawberries, light on the dressing with cocoa nibs and shredded carrots for added color and texture. He’d become a very good cook over the year and a half that he was even getting her to eat healthier if the looseness of her clothes were any indication.

Of course he made himself the same food though he had more dressing and fewer nibs on his. He waited for her to take the first bite and then ate with her. Normally they ate mostly in silence but just a few bites from finishing he spoke up. “There’s a break in the heat and the rains have stopped, would you be interested in eating out tonight, Master?”

Amanda set her fork right back down and stared at the salad. Interested in me? She felt John’s eyes on her and then his throat clearly something he always did before apologizing so she spoke up, “Did you have a place in mind?”

She lifted her head and picked up the fork along with the final bit of lettuce. She watched as he sat up a bit straighter and looked to the side for a brief moment then back at her. “There’s a new café just two blocks from here, overlooking the river. They might not be full up yet given how new they are.”

“What type of menu?” That was a normal question from her and allowed her to scoop up the last of the nibs and strawberries before looking back at him.

“Fusion style but all based around the omelet, sort of a whatever you want in the omelet we got it idea.”

Her smile was sincere as she nodded. “Ah, and you know I love omelets,” she pointed her now empty fork at him. “And this explains the salad because you know I won’t be picking any veg or fruit for my omelet.”

“You have me all figured out, Master,” he replied returning her smile and finishing off his own lunch.

If only that were true.

 

John followed behind Amanda and the hostess then stepped forward to pull out his master’s chair. This got no looks of confusion from the employees or the customers in the café because it looked like he was just being an old-fashioned gentleman. He wasn’t doing it for that reason and as he joined her he realized that he didn’t miss the stares that his service brought whenever Roy and he had gone to a mundane place.

The café was casual but Amanda had put on a sundress any way so he fit right in with her in a light blue short sleeved button-down and tie. She’d eyed the tie, said nothing but walked back into her bedroom to return a moment later wearing a necklace that hung down below her neckline as well as a ring on her left hand and a bangle on her left wrist. She was flagging so he pulled the keys to his collar out of his pocket and attached it to the right front belt loop of his pants then pulled his tie loose just enough to show the top of his collar. That made her laugh as she led the way out.

No one here in the café noticed his collar or their flagging; if they did they weren’t staring or coming over to talk to them. Both had happened to him in the past. As Amanda picked up the menu to look at it John realized this was their first non-pub or leather related meal out since their contract. He didn’t reach for his own menu and contented himself with considering her and what wasn’t happening.

He’d take Desmond’s advice and looked at some website claiming to know the secret to women but by and large he found all of them the opposite of everything he knew about Amanda. Little attempts to be “traditionally romantic” only worked if he was very subtle and combined it with his normal protocols; anything else earned him a glare at best and the tossing of the bouquet he brought back from shopping into the trash at worst. So far that was the worst, it could get much, much worse he knew since by contract she only had to give him 48 hours notice to get his stuff out of her place.

Even now though she looked the feminine part she was deciding on food for the both of them and then tapped the table twice to signal him to call a server over. That was the one different thing about eating with her versus Roy — both tops made the decisions but she played into the expected roles a touch more, just a touch though.  
The server came over and smiled at John, giving him the once over until the younger man’s eyes landed on his collar and the keys and he swallowed before turning to Amanda who looked up to meet his eyes. At least the staff wasn’t entirely clueless here that should make things run smoother. Not that the clueless made things rough just that extra hesitation, the causal turn toward him for his order, that could be awkward but this server simply took the orders from her, inclined his head toward her and then blushed in John’s direction.

“Gay or sub?” Amanda asked as she leaned forward and held out her glass for him to fill with water.

“Definitely gay and maybe a dabbler,” John replied as he filled her glass and then his own. “Not completely clueless,” he added motioning with the carafe before putting it down. 

“Yes now you can be useful during dinner and just entertaining,” Amanda teases him back and for a second he pauses because of her reaction. 

She is smiling though and her tone was light so he follows her lead and leans forward a bit, lowering his voice but keeping his voice equally soft. “How may I entertain you this evening, Master?”

She sits back and narrows her eyes and his stomach starts to clench. He’s played this wrong, misread her tone, he just can’t do this het thing right then she chuckles and lifts up her water glass. “To an evening of possibilities,” she says just loud enough that the get a few glances and smiles their way.

“To an evening of possibilities,” he agrees just as loudly and he clinches his glass against hers. Somewhere in the back of his mind he recalls something about toasting with water bring bad luck.

 

Back at the condo they’ve opened the doors onto the balcony and are having a glass of wine. Amanda takes a sip and smiles down at John as he rests on his knees by her chair also sipping his own glass. He looked at her and sat his glass on the small table in front of them. “What may I do for you, Master?”

He’d taken the tie off and unbuttoned the top to buttons after she’d removed the jewelry so his collar was visible as was a bit of his chest. He was kneeling up so that he could almost look her in the eyes, leaning toward her, when she got a mean idea. “Did this evening turn out as you planned?”

He moved back just a touch at the question then looked down silently for a few heartbeats before replying, “Actually I was hoping for something more, Master.”

Amanda waited for a few heartbeats herself before flirting right back. “Didn’t Roy tell you that boys who don’t ask, don’t get?”

He sucked his breath in through his nose making a huffing noise then bowed his head lower. “True, Master,” he whispered.

After a few seconds he suddenly knelt up and lean over into her space. “I need you to take what you want from me, Master. What you need from me. Anything.”

His eyes were boring into hers with complete sincerity behind the words. A glance down revealed he was blushing a bit and further down his chest was heaving slightly and there was tightness across his lap. She shook her head and tried to move to stand but he was blocking her in the chair that made her frown but also made her pulse race. “You do many things that I need, that I want, John. But you can’t give me everything.”

“Why not?” While his position was blocking her the look on his face, the tone of his words, were more pleading than demanding. “I take our contract very seriously, Master. I don’t have a skill you need, I’ll learn.”

Amanda bit her tongue just enough to calm her initial reactions. “There are some things you can’t learn, they just go against your nature,” she said with a sigh and moving forward just enough to bump against him.

His eyes slid to the right and then back to her. “Please kiss me, Master?” he begged and closed his eyes letting his mouth fall open just enough to look relaxed.

She should stop. That idea was somewhere in the back of her mind competing with the feeling of their kissing back in the cemetery, Cynthia’s words, his availableness to her since returning from Europe, the computer message that wasn’t for her, and his comments that afternoon about her art. 

Amanda wasn’t completely unaware; she knew the muses worked best for her when she was sexual satisfied. Part of the reason she’d honored her agreement with Roy wasn’t her word or their past but the idea that maybe Ds would be enough to scratch that itch.

It simply wasn’t the same without the sex.

Watching him with other men, watching some porn together and then jilling off later alone in her room was something but it wasn’t enough. 

Kissing him might well might it worse because no matter what he said he couldn’t learn to be straight.

“If I kiss you,” she said right against his lips, “I’ll want more and you can’t…”

“Try me, Master, try me,” he interrupted and his reply brushed their lips together.

The kiss started tentative and then his lips were moving against hers as his hands came to grasp the arms of her lounge. She put her arms around him and stroked down his to pull his hands off and onto her back. With each passing second the kiss deepened, intensified, and their hands started to stroke each other. 

“Order me, Master, please,” John’s whisper didn’t seem unsure or lost, only desperate when they broke the kiss for a second.

“Take me to my bedroom,” Amanda stated.

He scooped her up in his arms and she gasped a bit but neither of them returned to the kissing as he paused to open and shut the balcony doors and then carried her down the hall. The stood facing the bed but didn’t move further.

“Order me, Master,” John insisted again with a smile. He moaned when Amanda wiggled a hand between them and found he was still hard under his pants.

She frowned for a brief second then commanded him to lay her gently on the bed then to stand back and take off his clothes. Perhaps she wasn’t feeling the reality of things or he was faking but it would be difficult to fake arousal once he was naked.

Amanda couldn’t take her eyes off of his erection because there it was, larger and firmer looking than she’d seen it when she’d arranged those scenes for him. It made no sense but now it was coming toward her until his cock disappeared from view as he knelt down again. He bowed his head and took a raggedly breath.

“But you’re gay,” she said stupidly.

John glanced up between the bangs he had grown out and blinked at her then he smiled and started to chuckle. “I’m not your slave because you’re a woman. I’m not your slave just because Roy gave me to you. I’m your slave because it gives me something I need.”

“You’re gay,” she repeated as she swung her legs around and set her feet on the floor pushing them between his legs as she did so. Amanda glanced down and noticed his cock twitch. “Right? You are gay, right?”

John titled his head back and took another breath. Desmond had warned him that sometimes women like to over think things even after the hot and heavy gets started. Luckily he’d thought about this so when he took her feet into his hands and looked into her eyes he could say it quickly and plainly.

“If it was just dicks that turned me on I wouldn’t have gone the leather route. So much easier to be a vanilla gay man, trust me, Master.” He paused and transferred both of his hands to just one of her feet. “It is so easy for me to call you that because it feels right. All of me belongs to you, Master. Sure I’m still going get hard thinking about cocks or when I see a wonderful beard or hear a deep baritone or base voice but that’s a reaction not a need.”

“You don’t even know how,” she began and stopped with a glare as he chuckled then focused on rubbing her foot more intently. “Women aren’t like men, we don’t have the same parts.”

“I know,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ve been doing research, nothing hands on, but I’m not completely unfamiliar with the theory or the practice.” He paused at her look of confusion. “Let’s just say that a father who is hyper het tends to push his son to explore with the willing classmates. I never went stag to a dance, never missed a dance, but also never had the courage to take the hot guy from track and field. It’s been awhile but I have the basics down.”

Amanda opened and closed her mouth a few times then looked at him, putting her hands on either side of his face and holding their gaze steady. “If we do this I won’t expect you to be het or even bi just like you said, using what’s mine.”

“I know Master. That’s why I need this. I think that might be way you need it, too.”

Amanda nodded then lashed out at him with her foot knocking him back down onto the floor. She stood up and stepped over him. “We do this my way. Understand, slave?” she tried to force out all of the uncertainly but taking this aggressive stance and worked on keeping her voice hard.

John moved just enough to lie out on the flood and swept his arms up and behind his head. “Take what’s yours, Master.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow-up story to "Matter of Honor."
> 
> This story is not betaed and not professionally edited.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.


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